


Dude, Where’s My Pants?

by debwalsh



Series: Bingo-Bingo [21]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Accidental Marriage, F/M, Idiots in Love, Lack of Communication, Las Vegas Wedding, M/M, Marvel Bingo 2019, Meddling, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-07-12
Packaged: 2020-06-27 02:32:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19781443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/debwalsh/pseuds/debwalsh
Summary: In which Steve wakes up with the man of his dreams in his bed ... but apparently that’s his crush’s worst nightmare.What happens in Vegas may spell the end of a beautiful friendship.It’s a good thing Nat and Sam aren’t going to allow Steve and Bucky to get away with not talking about what happened ...This fills the Accidental Marriage square on my Marvel Bingo 2019 card!





	Dude, Where’s My Pants?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thetessie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thetessie/gifts).



> This is another fun prompt written for one of my amazing friends! Thank you, as always, for your support and the fun prompts you throw my way!

“Steve? Where’re m’pants?”

Now, Steve wasn’t a player, but he also wasn’t a monk. That wasn’t the first time he’d heard a male voice ask where their pants were. What made the particular question unique and exciting was who was going the asking. Especially up close and personal, a wall of warm against his back.

“Hmm?”

The warmth rolled away, leaving him feeling suddenly chilled. “I said, where’re my pants? As in, why am I not wearing any? In bed. With you? What the actual fuck, Steve. Fuck. Did we ... ?”

The chill was now inside him, spreading out from the leaden weight that formed in his gut.

Did they? Steve kind of felt like they did ... something. And he wasn’t complaining. He’d been carrying a torch for his best friend for as long as he could remember, and to wake up, naked, wrapped up in his arms, was the stuff of every dream Steve had had since puberty hit him like a Mack truck.

But judging from the tone of Bucky’s voice, this wasn’t a dream come true for him. No, waking up in bed with Steve was Bucky’s worst nightmare, and Steve just wanted to crawl in a hole and pull the hole in with him.

Helluva way to turn thirty.

&&&

Finally, Bucky flung himself out of bed, grumbling the whole while until he finally found his pants tossed into a corner by his still made bed. They were sharing a hotel room in Vegas where they and their pals had travelled to celebrate Steve turning 30.

The night before was coming back to Steve as he laid in bed, covers drawn up over his head as he lay in a cocoon of mortification and shame. And hurt. Big hurt. He’d always believed that Bucky didn’t feel about him the way he felt about Bucky, but he’d never expected that the idea of them hooking up would be so ... objectionable.

So, yeah. Mortified. Miserable. Hurt.

Because they’d done more than just hook up. Words had been spoken. Condoms had been used. More than once. Secrets had been revealed.

But apparently Bucky remembered none of it. And the longer Bucky snarked and spat about ending up in Steve’s bed, his pants tossed carelessly in a corner, the more Steve just wanted to die. Except he was afraid that he was already in hell, and he’d never be able to escape Bucky’s tirade.

“How the fuck’d my goddamned zipper get broken? Jesus, these are my dress pants. How’m I gonna do the shows without dress pants? Aw, fuck it. I’m gonna hop in the shower, Steve. You need to use the can?”

“Um, I’m meeting Sam to go running in the gym. I’ll, um, I’ll take care of business there.”

“Suit yourself. Meet you at the buffet?”

“Yeah, sure,” Steve called to Bucky’s retreating back, blinking back tears he refused to allow Bucky to see. Then, when the bathroom door slammed shut behind him, Steve grabbed his phone off the nightstand and texted Sam.

Steve: 911 in hotel gym

The three dots hovered and danced for a moment before Sam’s response appeared.

Sam: truble in paradise alredy? cu there

Truble in paradise, indeed.

&&&

“Not a thing?”

“Apparently not.”

“Well, shit.”

“Yeah.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. I mean, you were both tipsy, but no way was he blind drunk. I’ve never seen Barnes so fucking happy. No, there’s gotta be something wrong here.”

“I dunno. He seemed pretty angry and honestly, disgusted to wake up in the same bed with me. I mean, it took me a few minutes before I remembered everything, but he seemed to be into it at the time. I mean, really into it. It was ... well, it was pretty fucking great, to be honest. But this morning, he acted like the idea of having sex with me was, like, gross or something.”

“And then he just hopped in the shower.”

Steve nodded morosely and started up his treadmill. Sam frowned and wished he’d brought his phone with him so he could call in the big guns - aka Nat - but it was in his locker with his stuff. This was not a moment for brb. He shook his head and stepped onto his own track.

Since arriving at the hotel for the birthday bash, Steve and Sam started each morning running on side by side treadmills, both of them agreeing that the dry heat of the desert was more than their New York-acclimated systems could handle on the short trip west. The gang had been in Las Vegas for three days, and every morning Steve and Sam met up in the hotel gym to get in a decent cardio workout.

Sam stole a glance at where Steve ran at about half his normal speed, his posture sunken in and his whole body sagging with grief, and realized that a cardio workout wasn’t what his friend’s heart needed. But Sam didn’t know the cure for a broken heart.

But he was pretty sure he knew someone who did.

&&&

“James! James, you asked me to come up, so you’d better let me in before I have to murder somebody out here,” Natasha called, rapping a staccato beat against the door.

The door opened suddenly, and Natasha felt the air suck into the room in its wake, barely hearing the grudging, “Come in,” from the hotel room’s solitary occupant.

Pursing her lips in annoyance, she accepted the invitation, such as it was.

“This better be good, lover boy. I haven’t had sufficient coffee to be dealing with your morning after bullshit.”

Instead of a proper response, a piece of paper was suddenly thrust in her path. Gingerly, she took it between thumb and forefinger, arching an eyebrow toward where James hunched miserably behind the door.

“Steve and I got married.”

“I know. I was there. The chapel provides their own witness, but you didn’t go into this without an audience. So what?”

“So ... Steve and I got married. Married, Nat. And, we, um, consummated. Last night. Twice. It was pretty fucking awesome. And Steve apparently doesn’t remember a thing about it.”

“He say that?”

“He didn’t say anything about getting married.”

“Did you?”

“Well, no. It took me a hot minute to remember. I was drinking last night, remember. And then after the ceremony, celebrating. With more drinking. I woke up naked, in bed with Steve, spooning his glorious ass, with no memory of what happened at first, and I kinda freaked out.”

“Good freak out or bad freak out?”

“Epically horrible, I think.”

“Oh, James. You bring new meaning to the word dumbass. It’s a good thing I love you. Steve, too.”

&&&

After finishing on the treadmills and heading to the showers, Steve and Sam came out of the hotel gym ready for the day, and one of the hotel’s several themed buffets. Nat had organized their schedules before their arrival, and had declared July 3rd to be the day of the Spanish-themed buffet. The fourth was reserved for the all-American, which Sam had teased her as being cheesy. Nat had assured them all that it was unapologetically cheesy, but held fast on the itinerary. A boy born on the Fourth of July deserved a patriotic breakfast, according to Nat.

Honestly, no one argued with Nat. She’d never actually done anything to anyone - that they knew of - but there was always a vague sense of threat when she didn’t get her way. So the guys tended to go along with whatever she wanted. Continued existence was more of a guarantee that way.

So everyone knew where the group was convening this mornin. More of their friends were coming in later in the day - Tony and Pepper, the Maximoffs, even Bruce Banner and his wife Betty. Peggy Carter and her wife Angie. Dugan, Jones, and Morita were driving out from Morita’s place in Fresno. Only Dernier and Falsworth were missing the festivities, stuck in Europe as they were. The plan had been to FaceTime with them and rub their noses in the fact they were missing all the fun. But if they couldn’t repair the inexplicable rift between Barnes and Rogers, that call might be ill advised at best. From the look on Steve’s face as they made their way toward the day’s buffet, soul destroying wasn’t far off.

Everyone knew about Steve’s unrequited pining for Barnes. Everyone but Barnes himself. Only a few of their circle knew that Barnes actually carried a torch for Steve. Even fewer had the guts to try to push the two boys together. And she’d finally had enough yesterday, and during a gloriously booze-soaked evening, she’d challenged the two of them to look at each other and speak their most secret truths to each other. Neither dared disobey.

There’d been stunned silence following Barnes’s admission. Followed by kisses, champagne, and a joyous trip to the chapel

It’d seemed like all their dreams and hopes for Steve had come true. None of them had ever seen Steve or Barnes as happy as they’d been when they’d stumbled to the elevator after more celebrations following the nuptials.

And to be honest, Sam had never seen Steve so defeated and broken, not even after his Ma’s passing, as he did this morning.

Barnes better have a good explanation, or Sam was taking him out himself.

He spied Nat frog-marching an equally miserable looking Barnes toward the restaurant, and nodded grimly. He place a steadying hand on Steve’s shoulder, and steered him toward the hostess.

One way or another, this would be resolved soon.

&&&

Nat waited until they were all seated around a round table before she pulled out her phone and set it up on its kickstand. Then, spearing each of Steve and Barnes with a glare suitable for Medusa about to turn them to stone, she thumbed the play button.

Barnes started to protest, but she held up an imperious finger and told him he did not have permission to speak.

Sam was getting a little turned on by Mistress Nat. It was something he’d have to discuss with her - in private, of course - in the very, very near future. Wow. In the meantime, there was the matter of the two dumb white boys to be addressed.

Neither one spoke, just watched the screen on Nat’s phone in painful silence.

The video was from dinner the night before, another of the ubiquitous buffets, but this one came with alcohol. By the time Steve and Barnes came into frame and dropped into their seats with their plates piled high, neither was feeling any pain. They were giggly and handsy, shoving at each other like little kids. Sam let himself smile a little - they’d been a unit of friends for so long, this was a familiar sight, starting from when they actually were little kids. These two dorks were genuinely happy just to be together. It made the misery that came off them like heat off cement even harder to swallow. A quick glance to each of the dorks in question confirmed to him that seeing themselves happy and at ease on screen only made them more miserable.

He started to open his mouth to point that out to Nat, but the Finger snapped up in front of his face, so he pursed his lips and settled back in his seat.

Then he heard on-screen Nat order on-screen Steve and Barnes to look at each other and tell each other their biggest secrets. Their most secret truths.

Steve had been just drunk enough that he took one look at Barnes and blurted, “I’ve been in love with you for longer than I can remember. I’ve never not been in love with you.”

At-the-table Barnes frowned and leaned on his forearms, pressing closer to the events unfolding on the phone. Steve looked even more miserable than before, if that was possible. But Barnes ... Barnes looked surprised. Stunned, in fact. His eyes shifted sideways to take in Steve, who’d dropped his head on his forearm, and covered his head with his other arm., fingers making a bird’s nest of his hair

“I love you, too, Steve. I ... I always have, too. Fuck, we’re a pair of dopes. Let’s get married!” on-screen Barnes declared emphatically, his voice full of love and laughter. Barnes-at-the-table closed his eyes tightly while tears leaked out of the corners.

“Yes! Now! Let’s get married now!”

“Punk, will you marry me?”

“Jerk, will you marry me back?

“Rings! We don’t have rings!”

“The chapel’ll give you loaners for the ceremony. Sam and I will take care of real rings tomorrow.”

“We’re gonna get married! To each other!” on-screen Steve stage-whispered. “Bucky’s gonna be my husband! This is the best birthday ever.”

Steve lifted his head then, revealing his blotchy, tear-stained face, red lines showing where he’d pressed his face against his arms and the seams of his shirt. “Yeah. Best birthday ever,” he repeated bitterly. “Until it wasn’t,” he practically spat at Bucky as he reached toward the phone and put the video on pause.

“Steve ... I’m sorry. This morning ... I didn’t remember. Not at first. I thought I’d done something wrong, ending up in your bed that way. I thought ... I thought I’d fucked up and climbed into your bed by mistake. I -“

“You did. You did fuck up. You made me feel like waking up next to me was the most horrible thing you could imagine. I was happy, Buck. Happier than I’ve ever been. And then you shat all over it.” Steve stood then. “Look, this walk down Memory Lane’s been a slice. But I don’t feel like having what’s left of my heart carved out of my chest -

“Steve, you fucking drama queen -“

“Steve, I’m sorry! I love you -“

“Oh, for fuck’s sake -“ Sam swore, rising from his seat as though he was going to grab Steve and haul him back. Which he considered.

Steve closed his mouth with an audible snap, and then looked at each one of them in turn. “No. Just ... no. I’m gonna go to reception and see about getting a room by myself.”

“If that’s what you want, I’ll move out -“

“No. Don’t you see? I don't even wanna see that room again. You fucking ripped the heart right outta my chest, Buck. You made me feel worthless and unloveable.” Steve held up his hand and shook his head. “Just no, Buck. We can get the marriage annulled - if you didn’t even remember you were married when you woke up this morning, then obviously you were mentally incapacitated. And when we get back to New York ... I’ll move back with my Mom for a while. You can have the apartment.”

Steve turned to go then, but Bucky stood up, fists balled up at his side. “Do I get to talk now? Huh? Do I get any say in this? I said I’m sorry Steve. I mean it. I am sorry. I was stupid and I dealt badly with what I thought was happening. I made a stupid, stupid mistake. I’ll do anything to make up for it. But Steve, don’t you dare, for one second, think that you are worthless or unloveable. Because you are worth everything to me. And I love you. I love you so much it hurts to breathe. I love you so much ... I love you so much I can’t picture a future where you’re not in it, front and center. Please, Steve. Give me another chance. Give us another chance. I promise you I won’t fuck it up again. Let me show you how much I love you.”

Just then, Natasha slammed her hand down on the table, and the next sound was the jingle of rings spinning on the tabletop.

“Fucking finally! Here are your rings, boys. Wear ‘em in good health and get started on your happily ever after. You belong together, you love each other, and now you’ve learned to use your words. So be together!”

“When did you have time to buy rings?” Sam asked then, whirling to look back at her.

“All night jewelry store on the concourse,” Nat shrugged to Sam, then looked pointedly at Steve. “Well?”

“You think that fixes everything?”

Sam answered, in part because he was afraid that Nat was going to blurt out something that would make the situation worse, not better. He loved her dearly - honestly, he did, and they were overdue for a conversation - but she had the subtlety of a grand mal seizure on occasion. “It’s a start, Steve. It’s a foundation to build on. Don’t deny yourself the love you deserve because this one is a dumbass. Don’t be a dumbass, too. Or, at least be the better dumbass.”

“The better dumbass,” Steve repeated.

Natasha nodded. “Yeah. The better dumbass. James did something stupid and he hurt you. He’s been hurting too, Steve. Once he realized what he’d done, he’s been terrified he lost you for good. And that will kill him. Just like never seeing him again will kill you, Rogers. You belong together. You always have. It’s why none of your relationships ever succeeded - you were always with the wrong person. Now recognize how lucky you are that you finally know you both feel the same way. You’re already married - it’s time for a real honeymoon. Time for a life together. Don’t you think?”

Steve turned slowly back toward Barnes, who’d been watching Steve’s reactions avidly. A small ember of hope seemed to glimmer in his eyes, and Sam hoped it wasn’t in vain as Steve’s silence continued.

Finally, Steve held out his hand to Barnes. Barnes half rose out of his chair, his hand visibly shaking as he reached for Steve’s. “Grab the rings,” Steve said then, nodding toward the two bands in front of Nat. “We got a lot to talk about, Buck. But we might as well mark ourselves as taken, husband.”

Sam was sure the smile that lit Barnes’s face then could power the Strip for a month. Sam felt his chest loosen and the vise around his neck ease up, as his own face morphed into a smile as the pair of them slipped on the rings Nat had chosen for them. He couldn’t miss the fond, almost teary expression on Steve’s face was matched by Barnes.

“And you two,” Steve added, pointing to Sam and Nat in order, “it’s time you got your shit together, too. If you think we’re the only dumbasses at this table, I got news for you - you’re a matched set. So we’re gonna go have our wedding breakfast together, just the two of us - and you two are gonna talk, for real. Sam? Don’t you have something to say to Nat?”

“Do you have something to say to me, Wilson?”

Sam felt the flutter of nervousness mixed with anticipation, followed by a sensation of ... rightness.

“Yes, ma’am, I do. And you two - go be cute somewhere else. You’re cramping my style here.”

As Sam sat down across from Nat, he watched her eyebrow arch delicately in confusion, and he felt a smile spread slowly across his face.

Then Steve had to ruin the moment by announcing as he and Barnes walked away, “The first thing you can do to make it up to me is feed me, Buck.”

“Steve, we’re at a buffet.”

“No. I mean feed me. I got fantasies, pal. Your job is to fill ‘em!”

Sam slapped his hands over his ears as Nat dissolved into giggles.

Dumbasses, indeed.

END

**Author's Note:**

> Dumbasses, indeed.


End file.
